30 Bucks Says I Love You More
by HPslashSPNLuver92
Summary: AU, OOC, WINCEST! It started with a bet. It ended with love. Who knew a stupid bet about crying would lead to Sam finding his longed for happiness? Only his brother could achieve that for him... Contains Pining!Sam, Crying!Sam, TryHard!Dean :D And, of course: sap, sap and sap!


**ULTIMATE DISCLAIMER: Every content, character, plot etc. that anyone is able to recognize as other's property is NOT mine. I have no intention to get into any trouble involving law and money.**

 **ULTIMATE WARNING: So far most of my stories are turning out to be SLASH and MPREG. So they may contain mature, Male/Male Relationship and not so graphic sex scenes between two men. If you can't stand these or don't want to read them, please leave this story behind!**

 **AU, OOC. WINCEST!**

 **I wrote this quite a while ago. I would put it a couple years after the Apocalypse was prevented, with no more end of the world situations, just regular hunts in the boys' lives.**

 **WARNING! This story contains Pining!Sam, Crying!Sam, sap, a Nickelback song called _Trying Not To Love You,_ sap, romantic movies and sap... Oh, and sap. :P**

 **The opinions expressed in this story about the featured movies DO NOT reflect my opinions! Some of them I haven't even seen yet.**

 **Anyways, on to the story!**

* * *

 _ **30 Bucks Says I Love You More**_

 _ **The Bet**_

"Here."

Sam glanced up from the folder he was perusing, just to find a tissue in his face and a smirking older brother behind it. He frowned as he slowly took it, staring at the soft material confused.

"What?" he asked, turning his questioning gaze back to his brother's highly amused one. Dean started the car, pulling out of the gas station.

"I know how emotional you can get, so-" the tissue hitting him in the face, followed by a hard punch to his arm, shut Dean up, the older man laughing as if he had done something cleverly funny.

Sam rolled his eyes at his pain-in-the-ass brother. For some reason, Dean started heckling him after a pretty novelistic case a week ago. The couple that had become the center of the hunt had pulled a Romeo and Juliet on them. It was such a romantic notion from a pair of bloodthirsty vampires that even Dean had admitted to being touched by it. Only a little bit, according to him, but Sam knew better.

However, the younger Winchester shed a tear or two for the couple. No more than that, though. He knew that kind of love, even had a taste of it, since the real one was never gonna happen.

But, of course, in true big brother fashion, Dean wasn't letting him live it down.

"You're such a jerk" Sam complained, turning back to the folder in his hands. He was having a suspicion that this newest salt and burn is a hoax.

"Yeah, yeah, Samantha" Dean drawled. Sam just shook his head, not letting himself rise to any bait.  
***

Sam slammed the door closed, the thud echoing loud in the motel room. He tore his tie off and threw his suit-jacket onto the floor.

"Oh, come on, Sammy" Dean spoke, that annoying smirk still on his face. "Just a simple wash and it'll be good as new."

"Dean" Sam turned to his brother, holding out an index finger to warn him, "shut the fuck up."

"Sam-"

"You humiliated me" Sam fumed, his voice trembling with anger, "just so you can keep your teasing-shit up!"

"Oh, come on, it wasn't my fault" Dean raised his voice in defense. "It was an accident!"

Sam grabbed his suit and hurled it at Dean's face, the coffee stain slapping against the older man's cheeks.

"No, it wasn't, you jerk! You'd rather embarrass me in front of the fucking witnesses, just so you can one-up me like a five year old!"

"It wasn't even a real case" Dean tried, but Sam just glared at him.

"That doesn't excuse your immature behavior during work! We're supposed to be professionals!" Sam ran a hand through his hair exasperated. "You know what, screw you! I'm done trying to beat some sense into you!" With that, he stormed into the bathroom to clean himself up.

After a relaxing, long shower, Sam found his favorite jeans, a T-shirt and a plaid shirt on the sink, his stained clothes gone. When he stepped out fully dressed, he avoided looking at his brother, who was rummaging in the weapons' bag. Sam picked the TV remote up and plopped down onto the couch, punching the buttons with annoyance until he found some daytime sitcom.

He jumped when a fast food bag fell into his lap then Dean joined him on the couch. Sam jutted his chin out in defiance, pointedly ignoring his brother's presence. He didn't even care if he acted like a girl. The man had to learn the limits of Sam's tolerance from something.

"I'm sorry, Sam" Dean spoke solemnly, his voice genuinely apologetic. "You're right, I shouldn't have done that. Or at least I should've waited for us to finish the interrogation." Sam crossed his arms with an indignant huff, keeping his eyes on the TV. He could practically hear Dean's eye roll. "You know it's my duty to pull your leg once in a while."

"There's a difference between teasing and torture" Sam spat out, his anger still simmering at his stubborn brother. "And you shouldn't be surprised that I'm mad at _your_ hypocritical ass."

"Hypocritical?" Dean questioned with indignation. "I'm not hypocritical."

"Oh, really?" Sam finally looked at his brother with a taunting raise of an eyebrow and a condescending smirk. "You're busting my balls about shedding a tear for something touching, when you're the one usually crying like a teenage girl overwhelmed with hormones." Okay, maybe he was exaggerating, but Dean was an ass. Period.

"I never do that!"

"Yeah, then what did you do on the last case?"

"I wasn't crying, I just… had something in my eye, that's all."

"Then why weren't you blinking that something out like you always do?"

"'Cause I'm not a wuss about some dust in my eye!" Sam just huffed at the typical macho reply. Why is he even trying? "You burst out bawling at every little thing, anyway."

"No, I don't!" Seriously? They're really arguing about who's crying more? When did their lives become so dull?

"I bet I can make you cry in a minute!" Dean exclaimed over Sam's protest. The younger Winchester felt irritation wash over him and decided to get back at his obnoxious sibling.

"Oh, you wanna bet?" he asked in a low, dangerous tone. Dean apparently was smart enough to be cautious at times like this, because he didn't even _try_ to reply defending his macho pride. "Fine, let's bet!"

"Bet?" Dean repeated with wide eyes. "Bet what?"

"You make me cry before the time's up, you win."

"And what do I win?" Dean turned fully towards Sam, interested now in the conversation.

"If you win" Sam paused a little, aware that he could regret this later down the line, "you can ask me for anything you want."

"Anything" Dean narrowed his eyes, instantly suspicious. Sam swallowed then forced out:

"Anything."

Dean stared at his little brother for a long time before holding out a hand.

"Deal."

Sam grabbed his brother's hand and held it tight.

"But" he emphasized and got a pout from Dean, "you can't use any artificial means just to get the tears flowing. It has to be emotional, not just some onion slicing." The older man glared at Sam for a minute.

"Fine" Dean answered, tightening his hold on Sam's hand. "Then let's up the challenge."

"How?" Sam frowned confused. What could Dean possibly mean by that?

"If I have to make you emotional then let's do it right! I'll win if I make you cry not just a couple tears. It has to be the ugly cry: snot, water flows, sobbing – the whole package."

"Okay" Sam replied with some confidence, sure of his brother's failure. "And when you lose, you have to shut up about all this business forever. No more taunting and no more stupid jokes."

"Deal" Dean repeated, this time pumping Sam's hand firmly. With that done, Sam picked up the food he was brought.

"What's the time limit?" Dean asked, returning to his own burger.

"Let's say… two weeks?" Sam suggested, taking a bite of his salad.

"Until your birthday?"

Sam glanced at Dean in surprise. Was it his birthday? He frowned but then realization struck him.

"Huh…" he huffed. Another birthday forgotten – till now. "Yeah, I guess."

"Okay."

With that, the two brothers settled down, Sam unaware of the changes he had brought upon himself.

* * *

 _ **Marley and Me**_

Sam groaned in pain. He wanted to kill his brother!

He was currently lying on his bed, cradling his stomach as he suffered through another wave of agony. Dean was lucky he decided to escape the motel room, since Sam's gun was still within arm's reach and he was still capable of shooting at Dean's foot with his eyes closed.

His head throbbed as he tried to shift it into a comfortable position and he moaned out loud again. There's no way he got a concussion from such a simple thing.

The brothers were road tripping through the country, for once no job in sight for the near future. They spent some quality time together most nights, either in a bar just shooting the shit or in the motel room watching movies.

It had been a week since the bet, the halfway mark already reached. And Sam regretted everything.

At first, even though they established emotions as the only cause of Sam's tears, Dean tried every possible method to draw tears out of his little brother: hitting Sam a little too hard, making him stub his toes in every possible surface – and how Dean had managed _that_ was a mystery – even shutting a door or window on Sam's fingers. This went on for the whole week, the methods growing slowly more violent within the limits of 'accident'. Sam's whole body was covered in bruises.

But last night was the tip of the iceberg.

 _'They stumbled out of the bar, laughing after a good time spent with darts and brother-bonding. Dean had an arm around Sam's shoulders and the younger Winchester tried to ignore the feelings crawling up and down his spine. Even with the scent of alcohol wafting around them Dean still smelled so good…_

 _"_ _Come on, kiddo_ _"_ _Dean said, leading Sam towards their motel on the sidewalk. It was only a few blocks away so there had never been a need for the Impala._ _"_ _It's bedtime for drunk little demon hunters._ _"_

 _Sam giggled slightly, his vision swaying only a little bit. He wasn't tired yet. Nor was he drunk._

 _"_ _I'm not drunk_ _"_ _he said, shoving at his brother's side playfully. Dean snorted with a smirk._

 _"_ _Well, you're tipsy, then. Good enough for me._ _"_

 _Sam rolled his eyes but followed his brother. They had the same amount of drinks so if Dean wasn't staggering with inebriated merriment then Sam wasn't drunk, either._

 _He hurried to his brother's side, sliding his hands into his jeans' pockets as they strolled down the street._

 _"_ _You know, it doesn't count_ _"_ _Sam spoke after a small silence. Dean tilted his head then turned a confused gaze towards his brother._ _"_ _Tears of painful injuries don't count, remember?_ _"_

 _"_ _What? You're hurt?_ _"_ _Sam rolled his eyes again._

 _"_ _Your little machinations are for naught_ _"_ _he replied, lifting up one hand and wiggling two bruised fingers on it. Dean blushed but his eyes turned harder._

 _"_ _I didn't mean them_ _"_ _he grumbled out._ _"I_ _'m not a cheater._ _"_

 _"_ _Yeah, right_ _"_ _Sam huffed. When he received a push on his arm, he smacked Dean's arm in retaliation. With their motel in sight, he strode forward to avoid an all-out war…_

 _But his feet tangled up with Dean's._

 _Sam felt hands grab his sleeve as he turned towards Dean, grabbing the older man's jacket for leverage. Results?_

 _A big knock on the back of his head from the meeting with the asphalt and the breath knocked out of him as Dean landed on top of him, one elbow jabbing into his stomach. Hard._

 _"_ _Goddammit_ _"_ _Dean cursed, quickly jumping off of Sam. The younger Winchester could've sworn that he saw regret and fear in his brother's green eyes._ _"_ _Sammy, you okay?_ _"_

 _Sam moaned in pain and tried to get up, but his head throbbed with every heartbeat coursing through him, especially if he tried moving. Dean slowly helped him up._

 _"_ _I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to-_ _"_ _Dean's words were cut off by a fierce shove._

 _"_ _Fuck you!_ _"_ _Sam snapped out, anger filling him up. Where would Dean stop with this bullshit? When Sam actually died from one of his stupid moves?! Cradling his head, Sam staggered to their room. He was extremely thankful that he had the key to it, because now wasn't the time he wanted to deal with his idiot brother._

 _As soon as he stepped into the bathroom, he slammed the door closed furiously. He winced as the loud sound echoed through his brain, jack-hammering on his skull. He sat onto the edge of the tub, just waiting for his poor head to stop hurting so he could think. He felt those damned tears gathering in his eyes and even_ _ **he**_ _didn't know why they appeared._

 _Probably the pain…_

 _Everything hurt. His hands, fingers, his feet, toes, his elbows, his shoulders… and now his head throbbed with an almighty mother of a headache. Why can't he have a normal, sensible brother who would realize where the limits of his actions were?_

 _A calloused hand cradling his cheek and something cold on top of the source of his headache startled him out of his gloom. He had his gaze turned towards the floor and hidden behind reddened lids, his fingers covering the evidence of his breakdown._

 _"_ _D-Doesn't count…_ _"_ _Sam cursed his hitching voice inwardly. Great way to give away what he was trying to hide! Instead of the mocking he was expecting, Sam was pulled forward._

 _Into a gentle hug._

 _"_ _Okay, kiddo_ _"_ _Dean whispered, stroking down Sam's back. The younger Winchester tried to respond with a wisecrack, but he could only gasp in a breath to prevent himself breaking down even further. Dean just soothed him softly, keeping a firm hold on the ice for Sam's head._

 _It took a while but Sam gradually gathered his self-control back together. He pulled back, turning away from Dean and wiping angrily at his face. His head was hurting even more than before but this time it wasn't mostly from the bump on the back of his skull._

 _"I_ _'m sorry, Sammy_ _"_ _Dean mumbled, that blush back on his face as the older Winchester fiddled with the cloth in his hands._ _"_ _If it means anything, none of those accidents were intentional._ _"_

 _"_ _Whatever_ _"_ _Sam's voice pitched low to stop its trembling, although it still piqued its head momentarily. He stood up, left the bathroom, changed into pajamas and collapsed onto his bed. He fell asleep shortly after._

The door opened just as Sam curled around his aching stomach. He had found a bruise there, too, where Dean's elbow met with his abdomen last night. At least, his head wasn't pulsing with pain as much.

"Sammy?" Dean asked hesitantly and Sam heard him step closer.

"No job… please…" Sam groaned miserably. Dean snickered lightly then walked around the bed, putting a bag of take-out food onto the nightstand in front of his brother.

"No job, don't worry" Dean replied softly, leaning slightly closer to check him over. Sam let him, feeling too hurt to refuse or fight the mother-henning. He sighed happily, though, when the check-up ended with Dean stroking his hair affectionately. He loved it when his brother showed tenderness, especially towards him… - If you feel like it, though, I'd like to get out of here. – Sam groaned petulantly, burrowing himself back under his blanket. Dean just chuckled as he left Sam alone.

The younger Winchester didn't even have the strength to flip him off.  
***

After a good meal – and two Tylenols swallowed dry – Sam found himself dozing in the Impala. He was vaguely aware of the music softly humming around him and warmth on his left cheek, the scent of gunpowder and leather surrounding him. For a change, it wasn't one of Dean's cassettes screaming metal into his ears, but it was the radio with newer and older songs in an enjoyable combination. The atmosphere was nice…

A jolt yanked him out of his bubble and Sam blinked owlishly, taking in where they were. He quickly jumped back from Dean, embarrassed that he had cuddled up to his brother in his sleep… Not that he was cuddling.

He frowned when he saw the gravestones on both sides of the car. Where were they?

"I've got something to do" Dean said, his face void of any emotion, which could usually be seen before the execution of a plan on a hunt. "Why don't you stretch a little?" The smirk flashing Sam's way was as fake and fragile as never before. Even Sam was taken aback by that.

"Okay…"

Probably that was why he couldn't give a better comeback – or a comeback at all.

Both of them got out of the car, by now their movements synchronized to perfect unison. Sam stretched his arms upwards, arching his back so hard that he even stood on his tip-toes before lowering back to the ground with a satisfied groan. As he leaned against the passenger door and looked towards his brother, he just caught Dean turning away with a frown and a clear of his throat. Sam watched with a frown of his own as the man made his way down the gravel path. Sam looked around, taking in the familiar sight.

Why were they in a cemetery?  
***

Sam checked his watch for the fourth time. He was now sitting on the hood of the Impala. He had already hummed through four of his favorite songs, keeping it quiet to preserve the ears of the dead. Yes, he was that bad.

Now, though, it had been over half an hour since Dean disappeared. Who could be here that Dean took this long to finish up? Or maybe he couldn't find the grave yet? But that's absurd: Dean is a bloodhound when it came to tracking.

Why were they even here?

Unable to keep his curiosity at bay, Sam slid off the hood, checked on the car if it was locked and followed his brother's path down the gravel.

He didn't know what he was expecting, except the long walk to search for his brother.

But he certainly didn't think he would find Dean standing not that far away, in front of a small gravestone in complete silence.

Sam cautiously approached his brother, not wishing to disturb, but the look on Dean's face pulled on his heartstrings. The man seemed troubled and sad… the genuine guilty look Sam had seen only a couple times.

"Sorry, Sammy."

Dean spoke quietly when the younger Winchester was a few steps behind him. Sam had had a suspicion that his brother knew he was approaching.

"Everything okay?" Sam asked, worry filling him. Dean's eyes stayed locked with the grave stone as the man gave a barely-there nod. More curious, Sam followed his gaze.

Jessica Moore smiled back at him from a small portrait.

Sam's body jolted as the old pain struck into him at the sight of his love during his normal life. He was expecting those feelings and the guilt to surface… but… he was strangely calm. He was shocked, though.

What on Earth happened to his brother that he sought out the grave of _Sam's_ girlfriend of all places?

An arm wrapped around his shoulders, pulling him into Dean's side. His brother joined him but still kept his gaze on the picture. Sam felt the tears gather in his eyes as memories flashed by his mind, but it filled him with a strange nostalgic joy, not grieving sadness.

"Whatever happens here, Sammy" Dean said, finally looking at Sam, who turned to him confused, "won't ever leave this place. Okay?"

Sam frowned then looked back at the portrait. He was on the verge of tears- of course, _the bet!_ But Dean said…

"So…" Sam's voice was trembling again, the lump in his throat letting it out a bit strangled, "doesn't count?"

"No" Dean replied firmly, rubbing Sam's arm comfortingly. "This would never count."

Sam nodded and wrapped an arm around Dean's waist, leaning his head onto the man's strong shoulder. Dean immediately laid a hand onto his brother's hair, resting his cheek on the brown locks.

And Sam let his tears go.  
***

"Alright."

Sam looked up from the TV as his brother strolled in with a triumphant grin.

Ever since the previous day – the visit to Jess's grave – no word was spoken about their excursion. They had just sat back in the car and had driven back the way they came.

Dean walked to the TV and leaned down to the DVD-player. Sam raised an eyebrow at the still remaining grin on his brother's face.

"What are you doing?" he asked, bewildered and trying to ignore the sight in front of him. Dammit, Dean, stand up! The last thing Sam needed was a hard-on in front of the older man. Sam's emotions were more haywire since the cemetery. It felt as if a huge weight had fallen off his shoulders, finally letting him breathe.

He probably got his closure.

Dean plopped himself down on the couch after taking off his jacket then grabbed the remote. The screen turned to black then a movie started playing…

"Is that _'Love, Actually'_?" Sam asked, his eyes wide in surprise.

"Yep." Since when did Dean rent movies? And when did he choose chick-flicks? "Wait" Sam gulped as Dean turned to him with narrowed eyes. The younger Winchester could see, though, the teasing grin fighting to surface. "How do you know that?"

Sam yanked his gaze away and back to the screen. He could feel his face heat up in embarrassment and he unconsciously started wringing his fingers.

"I… saw the… the… the trailer and…"

"Are you… blushing?" Dean leaned closer, squinting as if he couldn't make something out. The usual combination of gunpowder and cologne, the trademark Dean-scent sent tingles down Sam's spine fiercer than before.

"No" Sam denied, trying to inconspicuously lean away from the distraction, but it ended up as awkward shifting. Dean just looked at him, waiting for-

"Okay, fine!" Sam cried out, breaking instantly. Dean grinned proudly, chuckling at his little brother's discomfort. "I just… like Colin Firth, alright?" Dean snickered as he leaned back into his seat, finally turning his attention back to the movie.

The night went better than Sam expected, however. They laughed at some of the jokes and even Dean seemed interested in the movie. Although, Sam felt the man's gaze pin onto him every few minutes, sometimes lingering, making Sam shift pointedly and clear his throat. He just had to endure, though, because the other wouldn't let up.

Sam felt the smile tugging at his lips during the love-confessions. During those obvious 'chick-flick moments', which Dean hated with a passion, Sam couldn't help but check his sibling for allergic reaction. He was surprised to see Dean either looking at him, or avidly watching the screen as if he was observing something very important – like an article of a hunt.

Sam's favorite confession was the scene between Keira Knightley and Andrew Lincoln. It filled him with such a melancholy, but the notion was very sweet. During that scene, he often felt Dean's gaze on him, but he didn't let it bother him. However, as soon as it ended, he snatched his eyes to his brother, surprised when Dean didn't try to cover his actions up.

"What?"

"Just checking" Dean mumbled before turning back, the smirk only flitting past his features. Sam frowned at the furiously working cogs practically visible in his brother's head, but dismissed it and returned to the movie.

When they were done, Sam stood up and stretched with a smile on his face.

"I think I'm done" he said, getting his pajamas out of his bag. It was already dark outside. "You're goin' first?"

"No, go ahead."

Sam glanced back at his brother confused. Since when did Dean relinquish his 'right' for first shower? However, the man was still sitting in his spot, staring blankly forward. Sam knew that expression now as the man's thinking-face. What was he planning so furiously?

Dean must have realized he was being watched, because he looked at Sam.

"I'm serious, go ahead."

"O-Okay" Sam was so shocked by the uncharacteristic behavior, he just resumed his actions.

During his shower, he thought he heard some music, but he just ignored it.

When he left the bathroom, he halted at the sight in front of him. Dean was sitting at the table, his own laptop in front of him, earbuds plugged in. The frantic clicks of the mouse were the only sounds in the room.

Sam snuck closer, trying to take a peak of what on Earth his brother was doing, but Dean quickly lowered the laptop screen, glowering at Sam.

"What are you doing?" Why did Sam have to ask this all the damn time?

Dean just smirked at him:

"You'll see."

With a shrug and a sense of foreboding, Sam went to bed, falling asleep to the sound of the keyboard.  
***

When he woke up the next morning, a bag of take-out food with a note attached to it was in front of him:

 _'Eat up, bitch. Be back soon. D'_

Sam rolled his eyes with a snicker as he sat up and snatched the bag close. He shook his head at his brother's mannerisms, all the while feeling loved. He opened the bag, his stomach growling softly for attention.

It contained all of his favorites.

With raised eyebrows, he opened the plastic, see-through container of salad, pretty good quality for what he was used to in diners. Besides that, there was a hamburger with all of his favorite toppings and less grease than usual. Even the French fries looked appetizing. How did Dean know what his favorites were?

And why would his brother go out of his way to give him them?  
***

As they traveled further, Sam had found breakfast every morning on his nightstand with Dean either missing or sitting by the table, clacking away on his laptop. Every meal was looking more and more presentable as the days went by, until on the fourth day there was an actual tray with plates and neatly organized cutlery on it.

And a freshly cut rose in a small vase.

What on Earth was going on?

Sam blushed as teenage giddiness filled his heart at that sight, feeling meek and… a little girly as he smelled the rose. Man, it was a long time ago that he wished for being wooed by someone. Now that it's happening, he should enjoy it – and his brother's attention.

Sam had fought these feelings for a long time, wanting to be normal and them _**not**_ being normal. When he had left for Stanford he had been hoping that he would forget his irrational infatuation with Dean. But, of course, even with Jess and his happiness, the moment Dean strode back into his life, they resurfaced. After his grieving subsided, still alive but on the backburner, he did everything to keep his secret a secret still. Could it have been that he had slipped up in the past?

But why would Dean play with him like that if he knew? Because there was no way his brother, Ladies-Man Winchester would accept, let alone return Sam's feelings.

Aaand… good mood ruined.  
***

That night Dean brought another movie home:

Titanic.

"Really?" Sam asked as he sat on the couch, picking up the DVD case with a critical eye. "That's cheap."

"Hey" Dean protested, taking a seat next to Sam, closer than he would otherwise. "It's supposed to be good."

"Whatever" Sam tossed the case back onto the coffee table. "Anything else?"

"Just one more" Dean fished out another DVD case as the first movie started. " _'The Lake House'_."

Sam settled back comfortably on the couch, ignoring how their arms were pressed against each other. Sam hadn't cried when he first watched this movie, but he expected the same emotions for such a tragic event and the hundreds of victims to surface.

During the love scenes between Jack and Rose, Sam couldn't help but grin, knowing his brother hadn't seen this yet. Sure enough, when Rose posed for Jack to draw her, he heard Dean choking on air from shock. Although, the sex scene in the car left even Sam hot and bothered. Who wouldn't be when you were sitting right next to the object of your fantasies, who owned a perfect little vehicle with ample space in the backseat?

Sam cleared his mind hurriedly, not really keen on embarrassing himself.

Strangely, Dean shifted with a clear of his throat. What could be bothering him?

The brothers fell silent as the actual catastrophe came on screen. Sam instinctively leaned more into Dean's side, in spite of knowing this had happened a long time ago and there was no way to prevent it. Dean's leg pressing back against Sam's indicated that his brother was going through the same thought process.

They gave out a huge sigh at the same time when the movie ended.

No tears.

"Dangit!" Dean exclaimed after one glance at Sam's face. That brought the mood up a little and Sam laughed at his brother's expense.

"I don't break that easily" he replied as Dean stood up to put in the other movie. "What do you take me for?"

"A girl."

Sam huffed indignantly at the almost instinctive response. He crossed his arms with a frown, turning his head away from Dean. He almost crossed his legs, too, but caught himself. No need to prove the jerk right.

Dean shoved him with a teasing chuckle, pushing him out of his pose and they sank into another romantic drama.

Halfway through the movie – and no offense to anyone taking part in making it, but it was a little boring – Sam noticed Dean's head falling slowly backwards. Frowning, Sam checked on his brother…

And found him sleeping.

Sam huffed again but it felt a little… right that his brother was dozing. That meant Dean hadn't suddenly changed without Sam's knowledge. Although, it wasn't typical of the older man to fall asleep at…

8 PM.

 _'Huh.'_

Now that he looked closer – and observing Dean was more interesting than the movie right now – again, no offense – the older Winchester looked pretty exhausted. There were dark circles around his eyes and he was paler than should be. Sam knew when his brother was spending nights awake – and this was one of those occasions.

Thinking about it, Dean was spending an atypical amount of time on his laptop, more than Sam during a hunt. It couldn't be porn, because Dean's always typing or clicking a mouse. And whenever Sam tried to sneak a peak, the older man would prevent it. He even had a password! Not that it would stop Sam, but… it must be serious.

Sam spent the rest of the movie studying his brother's peaceful features, even turning fully towards him and forgetting about the TV. The moment Dean had started morphing into the man he is, he had gotten handsomer and handsomer in Sam's eyes. The younger Winchester had found himself watching his brother with probably an obvious love-struck expression on his face. He had always wished he was not as gangly and clumsy during his teenage years so he could be attractive for his brother. Those emotions never left him alone and that was one of the minor reasons he had wanted to leave for college.

But now he was here again, back to his roots, pining once more and the older man not helping his situation with the breakfasts in bed, the increase of touches and the attention he was giving to Sam.

At the sudden darkening of the room, Sam startled out of his thoughts. He blushed: he had just spent almost an hour watching his brother sleep. Creepy much, _Edward?_

Sam shut the TV and DVD player off then turned back to Dean, contemplating the method of waking him up so they could go to bed.

Leaning down, he risked a touch on his brother's cheek. When he didn't stir, Sam brushed the back of his fingers longingly against it before pulling back.

"Dean?" he whispered. No reaction. Sam carefully reached out and shook the man's shoulder gently. – Hey, Dean? – Dean groaned softly at the jostling but just kept slumbering. Sam tried to think of a solution and glanced at the bed. It wasn't that far away… and Dean seemed to be conked out pretty hard… What could go wrong?

With a sudden determination, Sam wrapped an arm around Dean's shoulders and slid the other under the man's knees. His brother's head rested on Sam's shoulder, his even breaths ghosting over his neck. Sam paused to let a shiver rush through his body, feeling his cheeks heat up, then with a deep breath he eased his brother into his arms and off the couch.

Dean remained asleep.

Blessing every deity in existence and every star in the sky – yes, he was that grateful – Sam slowly walked to Dean's bed. For a minute, he let himself enjoy the man's warmth against him, knowing this is a one-in-a-million occasion, before lowering Dean onto the mattress. Sam tucked him in, instinctively pressing a kiss onto the blonde tresses.

Blushing even more furiously, he quickly dressed into his pajamas and went to bed, hiding under the cover and curling up in a ball. The more inconspicuous the better…  
***

 _'Marley and Me'_

"You're serious."

Another motel, another breakfast in bed, another movie.

"Why do you need to question everything?" Dean grumbled in his usual position at the TV. Sam knew he didn't mean it – or hoped.

"Dean, if you're bringing me a _comedy_ to make me cry then you're just grasping at straws" Sam didn't need to mention that he had already seen it – with the appropriate reactions.

"So, we'll just enjoy it" Dean plopped next to Sam, a pout he would deny later on his face. Adorable… "Is that so bad?"

Sam sighed then shook his head in reply. This will be interesting.  
***

It turned out better than expected.

During the whole movie, Sam was dreading that scene, knowing that it was heartbreaking, especially for dog-lovers. He mentally tried to prepare for the onslaught of feelings he remembered from his first watch.

Surprisingly, he didn't cry.

A sniff next to him told that Dean was the opposite.

When Sam checked on his brother, the man was surreptitiously wiping at his cheeks and eyes. He could see Dean's Adam's apple bobbing up and down a couple times in a row. Sam smiled as he turned his attention back to the movie.

"Shut up" Dean growled out, the tears and suppressed sobs evident in his tone. Instead of resorting to teasing banter, Sam's heart went out for Dean, as always when the man showed his tender side. So, he just scooted closer and leaned onto Dean, his head pillowed by the man's shoulder. It was an old comfort from their childhood: Sam's presence always helped Dean relax and gather himself together. Sam grinned as he was pulled into a hug and he turned towards his brother to wrap his arms around his torso. When Dean's free arm slid around him, embracing him without shame, Sam felt a deep ache in his chest. Who knew Dean would react so intensely to a dog's passing?

Sam closed his eyes, silently sending his love and warmth to his broken big brother, not interested in the movie anymore. He hummed as fingers raked through his locks, aware of the need in the touch. He didn't even try to move away, even after the movie ended.

A long, silent pause later, Sam was squeezed, Dean thanking him like that for the effort. Sam looked up, feeling calmer himself when he saw his brother was almost back to his normal self. The world was never right with Dean shedding tears in it, no matter the cause.

"You okay?" Sam asked softly, still enjoying the embrace.

"Yeah" Dean's voice was a little gruff and the man sniffed loudly one more time. "I just hate it when it's animals." So, Dean had an even bigger heart than Sam knew about. That just made the older man more attractive. Dammit…

"Don't worry" Sam replied softly. "I cried, too." Dean finally met his gaze, but the green eyes were full of disbelief.

"No, you didn't."

"I meant the first time I watched it."

Sam yelped as a hand slapped his shoulder, but the hug wasn't broken.

* * *

 _ **The Gift**_

Sam's birthday was closing in on them and with that, the deadline of the bet. The days were spent with traveling and movie nights. Dean had still rented chick-flicks, but the selection was gradually thinning. And it wasn't that much of a movie night if half of the audience fell asleep in the middle of it. Although, Dean always seemed to end up against Sam, his head drooped onto the younger man's shoulder. Not that Sam was complaining…

He still received the breakfast-in-beds, the meals better and better quality with each occasion. On one morning Sam woke up just as Dean placed the tray onto the nightstand then placed a fresh flower into the small vase. When the older Winchester's eyes slid onto Sam, Dean froze with an 'Oh, shit!' expression on his face.

Sam just smiled and muttered a soft, genuine:

"Thanks."  
***

"You know, you need to step your game up if you wanna win."

Sam knew he was egging his brother on, but he just couldn't help it, especially after another ineffective movie. His birthday was on the next day and Dean seemed to be getting a little anxious. Why would the man take a pretty stupid bet to heart?

"Just you wait, Sammy" Dean answered with a firm voice that he usually used during hunts. "I still have tomorrow." Sam just snickered in disbelief, dismissing the feeling of slight dread in his gut. His brother was planning something.

Sam just has to roll with the punches.  
***

The next morning, instead of being woken up by his brother wanting to move on, only the tray of breakfast greeted Sam. He sat up, looking around confused, but Dean was nowhere in sight. He pulled the tray onto his lap and immediately noticed the neat little envelope propped up against the glass of orange juice. He opened that first: it held a note.

 _'Meet me at 8 in the nearby park. D'_

Sam looked at the clock: 9:30. This must mean in the evening, otherwise Dean would've made it sure that Sam was informed in time about this. With a shrug, he had his breakfast, not hurrying anywhere for a change. It was a good thing, too, because he had time to savor the wonderful taste of pancakes and the freshly squeezed juice. It must have cost a fortune…

After his meal, he decided on a lazy day, staying in his pajamas and surfing the TV. As he approached the couch, he found a DVD case on the coffee table with a small fluffy teddy guarding it. The cream-colored bear had a red heart on its belly. Sam couldn't help but smile and give a sigh at the gesture. He put in the movie, a light-hearted romantic comedy for a change, then he plucked up the teddy and lay down onto the couch, hugging the small toy to his chest. He tucked his bare feet under the pillow on the far end of the couch and shifted into the comfort of the softer seats, sinking into the movie.

His day went by slowly but enjoyably. At lunchtime, a knock on the door revealed room service with a hearty meal of Sam's favorite steak, which the younger Winchester devoured in the company of his new 'friend'. There was also a package waiting for him on the table that he opened after his meal.

It contained the newest edition of his favorite book that he had lost a long time ago: _Crime and Punishment_ by Dostoyevsky. Sam was only a high-school student when he met with this novel and fell in love with it. He never told anyone about it until college because he was afraid he would be looked down upon for liking books and trying to be normal like that. He should never have doubted Dean: his brother knew at least 90% of him, even he had to admit that.

So, his afternoon was spent with reading and browsing the internet randomly. As time went on, he got more and more curious and nervous about meeting Dean. He knew the man had been planning something big and since Sam hated crying, he had to be prepared for anything.

At 7, he took a shower, thoroughly scrubbing himself and using his shampoo and shower gel for special occasions. He put on jeans, a red T-shirt and a white shirt, leaving the latter open. He brushed his teeth with a trembling hand and put on some cologne. After he combed his hair furiously, he chided himself for being so overzealous. What was he expecting? To be asked out on a date? Yeah, right.

At least he could enjoy a little fantasy of Dean confessing his love in some romantic gesture unfit for his macho brother.

With a sigh he left the motel room, pocketing the keys, his wallet and his phone. A walk in the fresh air might help clear his head.  
***

The park was empty, only the streetlights dispelling the full darkness. The sky was littered with stars and it was times like this that he loved small towns: clear, unpolluted sky and a breathtaking view of the moon.

Sam ventured into the park, his hands in his pockets. He was strolling leisurely, taking deep breaths and letting himself cool off physically and mentally. He always wished he could spend more time outside, but he was grateful for the small stargazing sessions he had with Dean on occasion, sipping a beer and marveling at the view.

As he reached the fountain in the middle of the park, he looked around, searching for any sign of Dean. Was he early perhaps? He checked his phone: almost 8. Dean should be here by now. He sat on the rim of the fountain, ready to wait for his brother's arrival, checking around frequently, not wanting to miss the man in the darkness.

It took him a few minutes to register the small flicker of orange next to the bushes.

Squinting his eyes, he could make out a small candle next to a beaten path. If he strained his eyes further, he could see another candle leading into the distance. Intrigued, Sam stood up and made his way to the path. Now he could see more candles further and further away, lighting up the trail that led into the crowd of trees. He looked around, checking for anyone else around that this could be addressed to, but only Sam was the witness to this scene. With a confused frown, he followed the line of candles, hoping he wouldn't intrude on an intimate moment.

In the end, he didn't have to worry: the clearing he reached was empty, except for more candles, a chair and a laptop with a projector attached to it, the beam of light landing on a screen. Sam cautiously approached the scene, his jaw on the ground in shock. Someone was getting ready for something incredibly romantic and he probably shouldn't be here because they could get here any moment-

As he reached the chair, he frowned at the candles at the edge of the clearing. They were arranged into something recognizable. Was that a 'W' in the center of… a heart? But the heart wasn't ordinary: the two curves had tales… They made it look like…

Two mirrored 'S's intertwined?

S… W…

Was this for Sam?

Suddenly, the laptop and the projector whirred into life and the subtle notes of a guitar filled the clearing, emanating from around Sam. The screen displayed on a soft peach colored background with green letters:

 _"Sammy"_

Sam's jaw dropped even lower and he fell back into the chair, his eyes glued to the screen. As the rock music started up, the text changed to:

 _"Please, listen"_

And then the lyrics came up, in synch with the song.

 _You call to me_

 _And I fall at your feet,_

 _How could anyone ask for more?_

 _And our time apart_

 _Like knives in my heart_

 _How could anyone ask for more?_

"The hell…?" Sam breathed, unconsciously keeping quiet to hear every word, even though he was reading along. Nickelback? When had Dean ever listened to a band from the present? And why this song? There wasn't anything special in it, just a generic love song. Or was there?

 _But if there's a pill to help me forget_

 _God knows I haven't found it yet,_

 _But I'm dying to,_

 _God, I'm trying to_

 _'Trying to forget?'_ Sam gulped, his heart clenching in fear. _'Forget what?'_ His fingers curled tight around his knees.

' _Cause trying not to love you_

 _Only goes so far,_

 _Trying not to need you_

 _Is tearing me apart._

 _Can't see the silver lining_

 _From down here on the floor_

 _But I just keep on trying,_

 _I don't know what for,_

' _Cause trying not to love you_

 _Only makes me love you more._

What was Dean trying to do here? Was it even Dean orchestrating this whole thing? Sam felt tears of… shame? Regret? Guilt? He didn't know, but regardless, they started gathering in his eyes. Was this really for Sam? Why would Dean do this? He's not the type to make grand gestures of chick-flick! Was the older man watching him from the bushes, ready to mock him at the right time?

At least, one question had been answered: during the break in the words, a couple pictures flashed by, all of them with Dean and Sam in it. When a rare picture of Dean with an arm around Sam's shoulders came up, the two grinning wide and happy back in their teenaged years, the words _'Only makes me love you more'_ appeared. Sam's heart throbbed painfully as his stomach churned with nerves and hope. If only this was serious…

After the pictures, the generic background returned with the words.

 _This kind of pain_

 _Only time takes away,_

 _That's why it's harder to let you go._

 _And nothing I can do_

 _Without thinking of you_

 _That's why it's harder to let you go._

Was this how Dean was feeling? If yes, then Sam's tears rolling down his cheeks are justified. This was the same way he felt when he left for college. Leaving Dean behind tore a hole in his heart and it throbbed painfully no matter what Sam was doing, reminding him of what he lost. Sam clutched at his chest, above his once again hurting heart, a small sob leaving his lungs.

 _But if there's a pill to help me forget_

 _God knows I haven't found it yet,_

 _But I'm dying to,_

 _God, I'm trying to_

More tears flowed down Sam's cheeks. How many times had he wished himself to forget his brother, forget his feelings for the man so he could be normal. Just as the song said, if there had been a pill to forget all the misery, he would've taken it in a heartbeat.

Not anymore, though… Strange…

' _Cause trying not to love you_

 _Only goes so far,_

 _Trying not to need you_

 _Is tearing me apart._

 _Can't see the silver lining_

 _From down here on the floor_

 _But I just keep on trying,_

 _I don't know what for,_

' _Cause trying not to love you_

 _Only makes me love you more._

Sam let his sobs finally explode out of his chest, grieving for his suffering brother. What he would give to change the past, to relieve the man of his misery…

 _So I sit here divided,_

 _Just talking to myself,_

' _Was it something that I did?_

 _Was there somebody else?'_

 _When a voice from behind me_

 _That's fighting back tears_

 _Sat right down beside me_

 _Whispered right in my ear…_

Sam jumped as on cue, two arms wrapped around his shoulders from behind. The only thing stopping him to react as a hunter was the familiar scent and presence of his big brother slowly embracing him. The calloused hands pressed against the younger man's heaving chest and Dean leaned his head onto Sam's shoulder, his lips right next to the younger Winchester's left ear. His smooth, deep voice filled Sam's head up, whispering the last words on the screen before it faded to black:

 _Tonight I'm dying to tell you…_

Sam grasped at his brother's forearms, stilling his crying to listen to what the man wanted to say – or sing softly:

" _That trying not to love you_

 _Only went so far,_

 _And trying not to need you_

 _Was tearing me apart._

 _Now I see the silver lining_

 _What we're fighting for,_

 _And if we just keep on trying,_

 _We could be much more"_

Sam couldn't stop himself: he turned towards Dean and gripped the back of the man's head with one hand, the other still holding onto Dean's arm. One of Dean's hands slid up to Sam's cheek, cupping it tenderly, his green eyes stabbing into hazel ones, making his point firmly and undeniably as the song finished on its own:

' _Cause trying not to love you_

 _Ooh_

 _Trying not to love you_

 _Only makes me love you more._

 _Only makes me love you more._

The music slowly tapered off and Sam finally broke eye-contact, leaning his forehead against Dean's shoulder. If he hadn't been sitting, the message would've brought him to his knees. He sniffed noisily, tears streaming down his face, his heart still aching for his brother. The arms wound around him even tighter, just holding him together as he sobbed out his grief and pain. Even though he was bent in half, Dean didn't complain.

It took Sam what felt like hours to get his control back. He still let out the occasional gasp as he wiped at his face, standing onto shaky feet. That's why he hated crying: he always felt like a newborn colt after it. And he knew he will get a major headache in an hour or so.

When he finally dared to look up, the laptop and projector was shut down, only the candles giving off light and the crickets around them the only source of sound. Dean walked back to Sam, wrapping his arms around his brother's waist.

"You okay?"

Sam almost started bawling again at the concern. He was always too emotional for his own good, but the genuine concern, no matter how used to it he was, tugged at his heart. Dean had an amused smile on his face.

"S-Shut up-p" Sam gasped out, smacking the man playfully on the shoulder, but giving a tremulous smile. He sniffed, feeling the familiar itch at the corners of his eyes and under his nose. Before he could turn away embarrassed, a tissue was pressed to his mouth, wiping the drying residue away tenderly. Dean had thought of everything.

"F-Fine" Sam hiccupped out. "Y-You win."

Dean frowned confused.

"Win? Win what?"

Sam frowned, as well. Dean was kidding, right?

"The bet."

"Oh."

 _'Oh'_? Sam narrowed his eyes and tilted his head bemused. Dean had bragging rights for making a girl out of Sam, could ask for anything he wanted, and his only reaction was _'Oh'_? Now that he looked closer, the man looked embarrassed, too, a blush faintly coloring his cheeks.

"So what do you wanna know?" Sam asked, still feeling the hitches in his lungs. "What kinda blackmail material do you want?" He smiled to show he was just joking, but Dean stayed serious.

"You said I could ask for anything." Dean spoke, as if waiting for rejection. "Does that still stand?" Sam felt butterflies flutter in his belly, nervous about what Dean wanted.

"Yeah, that's what we agreed on" he nodded. "So what do you want?"

Dean cradled Sam's jaw with both hands, looking deeply into the younger man's eyes.

"You."

Sam would've begun sobbing again, if not for the pair of plush lips pressing onto his in a tender kiss.  
***

It was during the ride out of the town that the question rose in Sam's mind. He was sitting right next to Dean, their arms pressing against each other.

"Why did you cry at the end of _'Marley and Me'_?"

Dean looked at him briefly as if Sam had grown three tails with replicas of his head attached to the end of each of them. And Sam should really re-examine his brain, because that was too disturbing of an image to just think up for a metaphor.

"Really?" The incredulity in Dean's voice practically burned Sam's skin off. "That's the first thing you think of when you're starting a relationship with your brother? Not _'When did you start loving me?'_ or _'How come you don't freak out about incest?'_ Or maybe _'How long have you known?'_ _"_

"Thought I would go easy on you" Sam replied. "Wouldn't want you to wreck your 'baby'." Dean rolled his eyes. Sam waited for the reply, but Dean seemed to have forgotten to answer. "So? You're not the type to openly cry about an animal."

"No, I'm not."

Sam was getting impatient as another pause indicated Dean's refusal to give.

"Did you have a dog?" Long silence, then…

"Yeah."

Sam swallowed with concern and slight fear. Dean's voice sounded slightly distant and a lot sad. He laid a hand on Dean's knee.

"Did… did you lose it?"

"Yeah" Sam could see the tightening grip around the wheel. "A couple years ago. He's just a puppy. I thought I would never see him again." Dean sighed then a wistful smile appeared on his face. "But I got him back."

"Really?" Sam's eyes widened."Where is he?"

"Where he usually is" Dean's smile turned to a grin as he sent a mischievous glance at Sam. "By my side, yapping my ears off."

Sam scowled and pushed at Dean's shoulder when he realized what his brother was on about. The man's laughter tickled him inside but he didn't show as he crossed his arms with a huff. But then a sudden idea entered his brain.

With a teasing grin and confident that his brother could keep the car steady, he leaned back towards Dean and gripped the man's jaw tightly…

Licking a stripe up the stubbly cheek, mindful to give an exaggerated slurping sound during his action.

"Eww!" Dean whined, yanking his head out of Sam's grip, glaring at his giggling brother. "Gross!"

Sam only shut up when Dean's hand shot out, gripped the back of his neck and pulled him into a firm kiss that ended with the smack of Dean's lips. The younger Winchester cuddled into Dean's side, lulled into joyful slumber as the Impala whisked them away on the empty country road.

 _The End_

* * *

 **So, how was it?  
**

 **It's a little silly - and a lot sappy - but we need some of that in our lives sometimes. :)**

 **If you'd like me to write other oneshots like this, check out my prompt section for Romance, or you can take a look at the Hurt!Sam Sick!Sam compilation, as well. Feel free to give me some prompts there! :D**

 **Anyway, R &R and see you at my other stories!**


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